


Tardy to the Party

by honey_wheeler



Series: The HOA AU [4]
Category: The White Princess (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 12:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13190217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_wheeler/pseuds/honey_wheeler
Summary: “Lizzie, my darling girl,” he says, his voice taking on that thrilling rough edge it always does when he’s turned on, “nothing with you is quick.” The kiss he gives her illustrates his point, all soft laziness and tangling tongues. Then he drops a light kiss on the tip of her nose, something that’s as irritating as it is endearing, and winks. “Well, nothing except your temper.”





	Tardy to the Party

He’s a man of many wonderful qualities, her Henry. Smart as a whip, possessed of a wit dry enough to make any Brit proud, truly a genius with making palatable meals out of almost nothing (a holdover from his post-boarding school days in France). Right now, watching him easily loop his tie around his neck and start tying it, Lizzie’s reminded well that one of those qualities is wearing the fuck out of a suit.

“Mm, you look good.”

Henry doesn’t even look at her, though she knows she looks quite fetching, perched on the edge of the mattress in her favorite little black dress, legs crossed so that her skirt rides up a bit, tits on full display as she leans back on her hands. In the mirror, she can see him lift his chin slightly as his fingers work the knot of his tie. “Lizzie,” he says, warning clear in his voice.

“What?”

“No.”

“No? I can’t admire how delectable my husband-” husband, the word still gives her a thrill, “looks in his finery?”

Henry cuts his eyes over at her in the mirror at that; he knows full well what she’s thinking.

“We’re already running late,” he reminds her. Lizzie grins, giving a bit of a shimmy and enjoying the way his hands slow and stop mid-Windsor knot.

“We’ll be quick,” she promises. “Look, I’m not even wearing knickers, we’ll practically be saving time.” She uncrosses her legs and tugs her skirt up, but he turns and reaches the bed in two strides, stopping her with his hand on hers. He’s stooped over her, so close she can suddenly smell the mint of his toothpaste under his cologne.

“Lizzie, my darling girl,” he says, his voice taking on that thrilling rough edge it always does when he’s turned on, “nothing with you is quick.” The kiss he gives her illustrates his point, all soft laziness and tangling tongues. Then he drops a light kiss on the tip of her nose, something that’s as irritating as it is endearing, and winks. “Well, nothing except your temper.”

She narrows her eyes at his back as he turns to the mirror again to tighten the knot of his tie. So he wants to play it like that, hm? She’s more than his match in that regard.

“What a pity,” she sighs dramatically. “All that shaving I did, gone to waste.” His eyes meet hers in the mirror again, a faint frown creasing his forehead. She can see that it’s on the tip of his tongue to say something, probably that she shaves her legs all the time so this is hardly a missed opportunity, so she gives him the sweetest, most innocent smile she can muster and tugs her skirt above her hips to show him.

She’s not entirely sure why she’d done it earlier. Only that she felt like it, felt like a change. Felt like trying something new with Henry. She’d shaved or waxed her cunt all the time with Richard, but that had been more something she thought she should do, the sort of thing part of her thought would mark her as a woman with inhabited sexuality rather than a girl in her first real relationship. Richard certainly hadn’t cared one way or another. She thinks that, if asked, Henry would say he doesn’t care either and he’d mean it, but Lizzie knows well enough the intoxicating appeal of nearly anything, when it’s done by someone you want and love, trying something new or different to please you. 

The sound he makes is oh so gratifying, more than enough to offset the hour she’d spent in the shower, balancing on one leg like a stork to try to reach the tricky bits. He swallows hard, and she can tell he’s still trying to resist, if only to keep her from winning this round, so she smiles all the more sweetly and parts her knees just enough to tease.

“Lizzie.” It’s practically a croak. Pleasure thumps between her legs under his gaze, almost as good as if he were already touching her there. Their endless game of one-upmanship is certainly enjoyable, but knowing she can do this to him, unravel him with so little effort, is twice as lovely.

One more twist of the knife. “But if you think we don’t have time…”

He’s on the floor in front of her in a heartbeat, catching her knees with his big hands as she begins to bring them together and pushing them apart roughly enough to thrill her to her toes. Then, after one savoring look, his mouth is on her, his hands slipping under her thighs to angle her hips up to meet his tongue. God, he’s good at this. So good. Henry eats cunt like it’s his dream job. Or maybe that’s only how he does it for Lizzie. The thought has its appeal. Lizzie makes a sound that’s half laughter, half gasp as she puts her hands on the mattress behind her to keep from getting bowled over. His mouth would just follow her down if she were, though. He can be just as single-minded in surrender as he is in resistance.

She comes fast twice, and then, after he slows down and draws her out into near desperation, a third time, until she has to push him away with her hands and heels because she’s so sensitive. He only sits on his haunches and watches her, his lips and chin shiny with her, his hair mussed from her hands and the expression on his face fondly possessive. Lizzie never thought she could enjoy the feeling of belonging so firmly to someone as much as she’s found she does.

When her legs finally relax, no longer holding him away as she shivers through one aftershock after another, he grins as if he might come back in for more before his face melts into dismay.

“We’re going to be insultingly late, you know that?” With a heavy sigh, he stands, extending his hand to her to help her up. Instead she shifts to the very edge of the mattress and rubs her cheek against the very obvious erection straining at the front of his trousers before popping up to stand in front of him with a smile even more innocent than before threatening to split her cheeks in two.

“Then I’d better not return the favor to you, like I was going to,” she says, ignoring his groan. He’ll be thinking about it all night now, her perched on the bed, him standing between her knees, the ends of his belt held tight in her hands as she works her mouth up and down his length. _Check and mate, take that, Tudor, she thinks._

“Oh Lizzie, m’girl,” he laughs, happily, fondly, his hands chafing her arms from elbow to shoulder and back down again in a gesture so warm and friendly that it only makes what they just did seem even more sexual in comparison. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”

It’s a mark of how bad she has it for her husband that only half of the suggestions that spring to Lizzie’s mind are sexual.


End file.
